The Fallout
by SarahRoseFics
Summary: So this is my take on the missing years of Sam going to Stanford, the fight he had with John, the burden of leaving Dean, and the aftermath of it all. It's a hope of mine that the show creators make a few episodes (spin-off) regarding these missing 4 years, and to have Colin Ford come back as young Sammy, since he's old enough now to be in Sammy's college years.


**THE FALLOUT**

 **So this is my take on the missing years of Sam going to Stanford, the fight he had with John, the burden of leaving Dean, and the aftermath of it all. It's a hope of mine that the show creators make a few episodes (spin-off) regarding these missing 4 years, and to have Colin Ford come back as young Sammy, since he's old enough now to be in Sammy's college years.**

 **I hope you guys like it :-)**

 **CHAPTER ONE**

 **BREAKOUT, BREAK FREE**

 **Bloomington, Indiana**

 **4 years ago.**

It was a day like any other in the Winchester family. The patriarch, John Winchester searching for a new case, while digging up intel about the monster he's been looking for almost nineteen years ago—the Yellow Eyed Demon; the monster that killed his wife, and poisoned his son—the monster that ruined his life, and destroyed the happiness he's worked so hard to have and keep.

His oldest son, Dean—was sitting by the dining table, cleaning his, his father's, and his brother's guns, while his youngest son, Sam, was on the couch—reading up on the lore and soaking in as much information as he could.

Dean stole a glance at his little brother and a smile spread across his face.

"Still geeking out on these books, huh Sammy?" he asked, already done with his dad's guns. Sam looked up from his book on the Norse Lore and squinted his eyes at his big brother. It always bothered Sam when Dean rebuffed him that way, even if he was just joking. Sam already felt out of place with his family, he already felt that he didn't belong, and his older brother and idol's words of mockery were always a punch to his gut—fun or not.

"Well, geeking out always helps, Dean—after all, it's how we find ways to kill the monsters we always hunt." Sam said, not appreciating his brother's mockery. Dean rolled his eyes, and started in on his own guns. Dean was never one for reading or researching books—he was the kind of hunter to shoot first, ask questions later—Sammy of course, was the complete opposite—the geek in the family.

"Yeah, whatever Einstein." Dean replied, giving out a snort.

Sam, being at the end of his rope, and having been already anxious about the news he wanted to deliver to his father wasn't having any of it. He slammed the hardcover book shut and stood up. John looked up for the first time and noticed how agitated his younger son was. Dean stopped cleaning up his guns and frowned at Sam's angry face.

"Don't go all hunter on me now, Sammy—it was a joke." He said, trying to defuse his little brother, the brother who is know for his angry bursts and rebellious streak.

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'm goin' for a walk."

"What about your researching?" John asked, and Sam's frustration came back with a vengeance. He glared at his father as he tried his best to control himself.

"I'll finish it after I get back." And not waiting for a reply, he grabbed his jacket and left the house.

Dean shook his head at his brother and went back to cleaning up his guns, while John stared after his son, worry and fear filling him.

He hoped to God that what's inside his son wasn't taking hold of him.

Sam kept walking, the cold night's air filling his lungs and giving him a sense of calm. His mind was swimming with the consequences of his confession to his father, and he knew that his reaction would be far from welcoming and happy. He reached into his jeans' pocket and fished out the letter he received two weeks earlier. He looked a few moments at the envelope and a small smile came across his face.

 **Stanford University** was written at the far left, its red stamp shining proudly under it. Sam opened the envelope and read the acceptance letter for what felt like a million times.

 _Dear Mr. Sam Winchester,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into our university. Please check in with our administration in order to get your place. We are proud to have a young man with such potential as you on our team._

 _Mr. Edgar Walsh,_

 _Stanford University Provost._

Sam smiled widely as he read the letter a second time but the smile soon faded when his cell phone rang. He sighed heavily, put back the letter in the envelope and tucked it away into his pocket. He pulled out his cell and groaned as the word 'Dad' flashes across the screen.

"Hey, dad." Sam said, willing himself not to scream at the old man.

"Sammy, where are you? I got us a case. Hurry your ass back home."

Sam wanted to scream-he wanted to yell, punch, and howl in anger. He hated this life, never wanted it, never needed it—he just wanted a normal life with a normal father; but after the death of his mother, his father became obsessed with finding the demon that killed her. As much as Sam wanted to be okay with it, he couldn't. He was six months old when his mother died, and ever since then he, his brother, and his father have been living the nomadic life of hunters—as kids, John would rent them a house to stay in for when he's away for more than a week, and when they were hunting, they'd stay in a motel room.

Sam never had the sense of a stable home or the sense of a warm house and a normal family—well, except for Bobby, which is another story for another day.

"Sammy, you there?" John's gruff voice reached him and Sam sighed,

"Yes. I am."

"Well, get your ass back to the motel." John was getting frustrated himself.

"Yes, sir." Sam replied, when all he wanted to do was throw the phone away and hitchhike all the way to Stanford.

Sam ran the way back home because he knew his dad would be pissed if he was late. The moment he reached Baby, the precious Impala that belonged to John and later was given to Dean, their motel room door opened to reveal John and Dean packed.

"Next time pack your stuff, Sammy." Dean said, throwing Sam's backpack at him. Dean got in the driver's seat while Sam sighed and got in the back—John riding shotgun.

"So, where are we going?" Sam asked. Dean played with the tones a little until an Alice Cooper song was on and he let it play on low.

"There are two victims in Oklahoma—unnatural deaths." John was always a man of few words, and when it came to hunting, he was in his jarhead mode.

Sam hated it, with every fiber of his being and he wanted out—for real this time he wanted out; so he decided that after this hunt, he'll tell his father and his brother of his plans, and he would leave for Stanford, whether they liked it or not.

In the mean time to occupy his mind, he continued his reading of the Norse lore, the music a soothing melody in the background.

 **Two days later…**

Sam and Dean waited for their father to come back from his investigation. Dean was watching some pre-paid TV, while Sam was toying with the idea of telling Dean first. After much contemplation, he decided to bite the bullet and tell his big brother the news first.

"Hey Dean…you got a sec?" Sam asked, getting a little nervous.

"Hold on, Sammy—this is the best part." Sam looked at the TV and found his brother watching a Spanish soap opera. Sam snorted.

"Seriously man, you don't even speak Spanish."

"It's the emotions on their faces that speaks, little bro." Dean replied. Sam shook his head, got up and turned off the TV.

"Why did you do that for?" Dean whined, and Sam thought how did Dean look like a twenty-two year old man but acted like a five year old brat.

"This is important, Dean, and I wanna tell you about it before I chicken out." Sensing the nervousness on his brother's face, Dean started to worry.

"You okay, Sammy?" As always, Dean would want to make sure that his little brother was okay.

"I'm fine, Dean. I just—I really need to say this to you first, before dad comes back."

"Okay, Sammy. What's on your mind?"

"I—uh, after this hunt—I'm—I'm leaving." Dean let out a laugh.

"Really, Sammy? And where are you goin', Disney land?" Dean kept laughing.

"Not. Stanford." Sam's reply cut off Dean's laughter.

It was completely silent in the room as Dean processed his brother's words.

The brothers stared at each other—Dean with sock and what resembles horror, while Sam looked nervous yet hopeful—however, his hope turned to worry when his brother took too long to answer.

"Dean, say something."

"The hell, Sammy." Was Dean's reply. Sam sighed and fished out his letter of acceptance.

"This is my letter of acceptance." He extended his hand to Dean, and after a few moments, Dean slowly reached out and took the envelope from his brother; he opened it, pulled out the letter, and then started reading.

Sam was on edge; he wanted his brother to be happy for him, wanted his support, and he wanted for his big brother to take his side on this.

However, the way Dean's face was morphing with emotion had him doubtful.

"Well, what do you think?" Sam asked, anxious for his brother's answer.

"Well, I—I can't say I'm surprised you'd get into Stanford, Sammy—you were always the smart one." Dean said, handing Sam the letter. Sam took it slowly, his eyes never leaving Dean's face. Dean couldn't look his brother in the eye—he was happy his little brother got in one of the most prestigious universities, that he was getting a chance at something Sam always wanted, but Dean was also pissed—he was pissed that his brother was leaving him, that he was going away and leaving him with their father.

And he knew his Sammy; he would go—no matter what.

This was going to be a fight between Sam and their father that he wasn't looking forward to.

"So—you're happy for me?" Sam asked. Dean looked at his brother and Sam noticed sadness in his eyes. Sam felt a pang in his chest, knowing that Dean is the one to be affected most with this news, but this was his future—his only shot at a normal apple-pie life. Sam always felt that he was destined for something else other than the hunting life and he was going to fight tooth and nail to get it.

"You're really going, Sammy?" Dean questioned, knowing that when his brother put his mind to something, he did it—but also hoping against hope that he would change his mind. Sam took a seat beside his brother and patted his shoulder.

"I'll be back on holidays and vacations Dean. It's not like I'm never coming back." Sam said, assuring his brother that he would always be around.

"Then I'm happy for you, Sammy. I really am." Dean said, a small smile on his face. Sam smiled back and pulled Dean in a hug. Dead held him tightly for a few seconds, his eyes watering. He then pulled away and playfully pushed Sam away.

"Now, let's not get mushy over this." Dean said, making his voice sound gruff. Sam laughed and pushed Dean back.

"There's one problem though—" Dean began and Sam sighed.

"Yeah, dad. I'll tell him after the hunt." Sam replied.

"Yeah. Good luck with that." Dean said sarcastically. Sam glared at him.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Sam gritted, while Dean smirked.

"What kind of big brother would I be if I didn't make my little bro's life hell?"

Just as Sam put away the letter, they heard the honk of the Impala. Dean went outside and after a few minutes, he went back to the hotel room.

"Let's go, Sammy. Looks like we're hunting a Kitsune today." Dean grabbed his stuff and ran out, followed by Sam, who hoped it wasn't his old friend Amy, the one he saved years ago.

Turned out it was a Kitsune family of three and after the Winchesters finished them off, they went on the road again. John was driving the Impala while Dean rested after getting himself beat up by one of the Kitsune's. Sam was gathering his strength and decided to come out with it.

"Hey dad—" he began. Dean knew it was the time, so he sat up and prepared himself to become a buffer when things got heated between father and son.

"What is it, Sammy?" John asked, unaware of the bomb his son planed on throwing at him.

"I got into Stanford." The words escaped Sam's mouth so fast it felt like a bullet in John's ears.

He slammed his foot on the brakes and turned to look at his youngest son. Eighteen years of age, Sam was already taller than John himself and his body was starting to grow in muscle and with practice, Sam would one day become the best hunter around—even better than himself and better than Dean.

"What did you say?" John asked, believing he heard wrong. There was just no way for Sammy to abandon them like that—and for what, college?

"I said, I got into Stanford—and—I'm going." Sam replied.

John got out of the car, and started pacing back and forth. Sam and Dean looked at each other and then got out of the car as well. Sam looked on as his father started to clench and unclench his fists in obvious anger, which made Sam become angry himself.

"Well, it's just a thought—right, Sammy?" Dean began, hoping to defuse their father a bit, "I mean, we'll talk about it first."

"There's nothing to talk about. I got into Stanford and I'm going—no matter what."

That set off John.

"No matter what? No matter what, boy? So, you're just gonna leave me and your brother to go to some college, while we hunt on our own? Leave the life you've had all along for some degree that will do you no good? What's the point, Sam, if you're not gonna use it anyway?" John was on a roll and he will be damned if he let Sammy go. Sam on the other hand, had reached the end of his rope and made a decision to stand up to John and shut him up for good this time.

"I don't want this life, dad—I never did. You forced me and Dean into it for the sake of chasing some demon you don't even know. Mom's dead, and hunting this demon won't bring her back. I just want out, and this is my chance."

"You watch your mouth when you talk about your mother, boy." John's anger was rising, but so was Sam's.

"Okay guys, cool it down." Dean was trying his hardest to cool them off, but it wasn't working.

"It's not like I'm leaving for good either, dad. I'll be back on holidays. I just—I want a normal apple-pie life, like everybody else. Just—please dad, it that too much to ask?"

Father and son stared at each other—the father with anger, the son with hope, which turned into despair at the words coming out of his father's mouth.

"No. You listen to me and listen well, boy—you are not going to Stanford, you are going to stay with me and your brother—you're going to keep on with this life and you will help us catch that demon. A hunter's life is eternal and there's no walking out. You understand me?" John's words were filled with finality and as he looked at Sam, he saw determination in his son's eyes.

"No. I'm not staying with you. I'm not going to burry myself in this life—I'm going to Stanford, get the education I always wanted, and I'm getting a nice job, a girlfriend and a family of my own. I'm getting out of this life for good." Sam said, hoping his words would mellow their father; but what came out of John's mouth next shattered his heart.

"You do that—you leave us and go to Stanford, don't you EVER come back, you hear?" John said. Dean stared at him in horror as he realized the gravity of the situation. Sam looked at his father with tears forming in his eyes. Did he hear him right? Did he actually say that? How could he?

"So what—either I suffocate with you or cut all ties?" Sam asked, his voice breaking. John's anger was so fierce, so consuming he hadn't thought of the consequences of his words. "That's exactly what I mean, boy." John concluded.

A tear slipped down Sam's cheek and he nodded brokenly, went to the Impala and snatched his backpack.

"Sammy?" Dean called out his name, brokenly. Sam looked at him and shook his head, "Guess I'll always be the _freak_ of this family, huh?" He said, staring at Dean. He looked at John, who didn't even bat an eyelash. "It's your way or the highway?" he inquired. John remained silent, but his stoic face said it all.

"Then I choose the highway. You can forget you ever had a younger son." And he turned around to leave.

"Dad?" Dean begged, his own tears streaming down his face, while all John did was stare after his son with the same stoic and uncaring expression. Dean would have none of it. He went after his brother and snatched his bag from him.

"Wait Sammy, just—just wait." He stood before his brother, blocking his way. He looked up and saw her brother crying and in a blink had him engulfed in his arms.

"Don't go, Sammy. I can't handle him without you, man." Dean whispered. Sam hugged him back, his body shaking with suppressed sobs. He was used to being away from John, to him, he was a drill sergeant in the place of an absent father—he could handle never contacting him again.

But abandoning Dean? His older brother? The one person who actually raised him? It was too much for him, too strong of a burden to bear, but he had to do it.

He had to do what he wanted for once.

Sam pulled away, and more tears streamed down his face. Had it been another time, Dean would have made fun of his 'puppy face'. Now however, it was breaking Dean's heart.

"I'm sorry Dean, but I have to go. I want this—please don't make us part on bad terms." Sam pleaded.

"You're gonna be gone for good, Sammy, I know you would."

"What dad wants, dad gets, right? I'm sorry, Dean, but I have to go—I have to get away from him, from this life." He said.

"What about me, Sammy? Brothers and best friends forever and you're abandoning me?" Dean retorted and Sam was starting to become angry again. He would not let Dean guilt-trip him with this.

"I've made my decision and it's final. I'm going and I'm never coming back. You can visit me if you want, but I'm leaving." Sam concluded.

Dean was morphing into John and he looked at Sam with betrayed anger.

"Go on, then. What's stoppin' you?" He pulled away a few steps and stared at his younger brother with saddened anger. "Choosing another life over your own family seems to be a recurrent thing for you." Dean's words were the final nail in the coffin for Sam. He stared at his brother in shock and betrayal and then he snorted, and shook his head.

"Why am I even surprised? You've always been the good son—the obedient soldier. Of course you'll take his side." Sam began, "Fine—" he turned to look at his father,

"You want me gone for good? You got your wish. I'm gone and I'm NEVER coming back. You can forget you ever had a second son," He looked back at Dean, "and you can forget you ever had a little brother."

And with that, Sam grabbed his backpack and started walking away—Dean and John staring after him.

 **END OF CHAPTER ONE.**


End file.
